


Let Me Fall

by booksblanketsandtea



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Character Death, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-08
Updated: 2013-08-08
Packaged: 2017-12-22 19:12:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/916997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/booksblanketsandtea/pseuds/booksblanketsandtea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The shot had been loud enough to make him flinch, even though he knew it was coming. </p>
<p>He was the one pulling the trigger, after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Me Fall

The shot had been loud enough to make him flinch, even though he knew it was coming.   
  
He was the one pulling the trigger, after all.  
  
  


Sherlock watched as Jim Moriarty jerked, a flicker of surprise passing over his face as he pressed his hands to his side. He can see the steady flow of blood stain his hand even over the few metres between them. Jim pulls a hand away, studying it with a morbid fascination. He looks up at Sherlock, and a dizzying smirk tilts his rapidly paling face.

"I knew you wouldn't be able to do it. Not properly."

He sways and Sherlock finds himself dropping the gun -  _John's gun, he's going to be so angry_  - as Jim begins to swoon with bloodloss. He starts forward just as the consulting criminal falls just a tad too far; and suddenly, the ground under him is giving slightly and he's gone.

"Jim!" Sherlock bellows, racing forward - because it might be over, the game might be done and finished but it's not meant to end  _like this_. 

And it won't, Sherlock realises with a desperate surge of relief -  _that he shouldn't be feeling, dammit, they're **enemies**_ -  
as he looks over the side of the cliff. A single hand is grasping desperately at a conveniently placed ledge of grass and rock not even a metre below. He doesn't even think about it, simply reaches down and grabs the hand, can feel it slipping from it's place and suddenly Sherlock is the only thing that's stopping James Moriarty from falling into the swirling white of the falls below.

Despite the bloodloss Jim's eyes are clear as he stares up silently at Sherlock, the two men assessing one another.

Sherlock lets his eyes rove over this - admittedly evil - incredible man who has captured his attention and pushed him to his limits over the past few years. He is incredibly pale - even if Sherlock does manage to haul him back up, it is entirely possible that he'll still die of bloodloss. Probable, even.

 

Sherlock gives a slow pull, testing his nemesis' weight against his own strength.

"What are you doing?" Jim bites out, and Sherlock can't hold back the snort of derision.

"Really Jim? I'm disappointed. What does it look like I'm doing?"

"It looks like you're attempting to save me, Sherlock Holmes. Why?"

Sherlock doesn't answer, just keeps pulling. For a small man, Jim is heavy and Sherlock is injured himself - and tired. He's so tired. But he refuses to let go.

"You pull me up and this won't end Sherlock. I'll kill you. I'll kill you, your brother, your little pet doctor - hell, I'll even kill that old senile cow you call your landlady"

Sherlock ignores him and keeps pulling. He's gained perhaps two inches, despite all his effort. 

"Sherlock. You can't seriously want to keep going?" Jim sounds almost surprised and Sherlock sighs.

"Of course I don't. I'm tired of this, Jim. It's been.. interesting. But it can't continue."

"So why not let me fall?"

"Because. Because you have to be handed into the authorities."

Jim giggled, the motion jerking his body to and fro and causing Sherlock to wince, his back and shoulders straining. 

"They wouldn't hold me and you know it darling. So really - why not let me fall?"

Sherlock is quiet for a moment before deciding - hell, if you can't be honest with your psychopath of an arch-nemesis, who can you be honest with?

"John wouldn't want me to. I shot you, and for the moment you're still alive. In John's eyes, that makes you my responsibility."

"Aah yes, Johnny boy - our favourite soldier and doctor. It would be for him, wouldn't it?"

Sherlock refuses to look away and Jim grins sardonically. 

"Well, it's been lovely chatting Sherlock. But I'm done. You shot me, as you so kindly pointed out, and I doubt that I'd live even if you did manage to get me up there with you."

"Don't be ridiculous, you'll be fine. Then you'll spend a lovely long stint in prison and you'll try and break out and I'll plan the security details... It'll be grand" Sherlock gritted out.

"No, Sherlock. It won't be. Because you see, you stupidly ignorant man, I've won."

"I fail to see how."

Jim grins up at him, his face tinged grey and his eyes calculating and malicious.

"Because, Sherlock. You want to save my life. You want to lock me away, nice and safe. And you know what, Sherlock, darling?" he reaches up with his free hand and presses it against the hand Sherlock's got wrapped around his other wrist. It's smearing blood all over Sherlock's sleeve, a sick parody of holding hands and Jim smiles serenely at the contrast of the sticky crimson drying on their pale skin. 

"I won't let you." 

 

Sherlock hisses as Jim suddenly digs his nails in with one hand and wrenches the other away and in his surprise and brief pain Sherlock's let go of Jim and their eyes lock, Sherlock's panicked and Jim's smug and falling, falling, falling out of reach-

Sherlock watches the distance grow between them until the Falls smother Jim and he feels like the misted air around him is drowning him as well.

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this piece of art by Axiniana:
> 
> http://axiniana.deviantart.com/art/Your-unlucky-hero-Sheriarty-210687371?q=boost:popular%20reichenbach%20sherlock&qo=131


End file.
